


Coping (Castle of Glass)

by SouthernMoonshine



Category: Havemercy Series - Jaida Jones & Danielle Bennett
Genre: Gen, POV First Person, brothers in arms, rook is a brat, rook's braids, war is hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-12
Updated: 2013-12-12
Packaged: 2018-01-04 11:08:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1080308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SouthernMoonshine/pseuds/SouthernMoonshine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone's got to cope somehow, even the Airmen. Rook and Amery, and their way of making it through the war. Or: how Rook got his braids.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coping (Castle of Glass)

**Author's Note:**

> _Take me down to the riverbend_  
>  _Take me down to the fighting end_  
>  _Wash the poison from off my skin_  
>  _Show me how to be whole again_  
>  \--"Castle of Glass," by Linkin Park  
> [Video on Youtube with lyrics](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5g-dHTrNNGQ)

I was black with soot. I could see my reflection in Havemercy's shoulder-plate, face black as black with teeth white and shocking circles around my eyes from the flight goggles. There was grit between my teeth and I had a great fuckin' burn on one cheek. Cinders, fuck 'em. Have turned her head to look at me.

"Go wash, you disgusting whoreson," she snorted.

"And you get washed, lady bitch," I returned, cheerfully. My hands were shaking so much I could hardly get the latch on the pen open. Got like that after all-nighters, sometimes, the roar of the wind and flames still in my ears so I could hardly hear Ghislain and Ivory talking. They were going to get washed. I had different plans.

I pulled my flight goggles off my forehead and down around my neck as I stalked the halls of the Airman, looking for a certain dragonrider. Bastard was here, just damn hard to find sometimes.

I checked the kitchens first, commons second. There he was, taking up a whole damn couch like he owned the thing, reading. I stomped over, tracking a trail of sooty footprints across the floor. Somebody'd clean it up, and for once in my whole damn life it wasn't going to be me. Bastion, that was an idea alright.

Fucking high and mighty my lord Amery rolled his eyes up to look at me over the edge of his book, like a street cur trying to decide if I was worth biting. It was a look that made even big old Ghislain step light, because Amery had a temper like a bitch in heat, and hit like a fucking cannon. 

Me? I just grinned at him, all sharp and toothy.

"Hey. Do me some more." I pointed at my hair, streaked with soot and wild with wind-snarls. Was going to be hell to untangle - I wore my hair long just like all the rest wore their hair short. Rules, to hell with them, especially when they were fuckin' useless as tits on a nun. 

Amery's mouth twisted. "No. You're filthy. Go wash."

I was still shaking, jumped-up and light-headed like I was still in the fuckin' air. Hell of a feeling, I loved it. I wanted to get right back on Have, go burn some more Ke-han bastards, fly and never stop. I wanted to fight, I wanted to fuck. No girls here today, though, just Amery, so a fight it was. 

"We killed a bunch of the bastards last night. I want more." I fingered one of the tiny tight braids at my temple. Amery had caught me trying to do it on my own, after they'd strung up some of the Ke-han bastard generals on the walls of th'Esar's palace. Rumor said the whoresons wore the braids to show how many of us they'd killed. I figured I'd return the favor, only I couldn't braid worth fuck. I was no fancy Cindy. 

Amery wasn't either, but he had a kid sister and a rich raising. Bastard. He'd asked me in that quiet direct way he had, all fake-genteel, what the bastion I thought I was doing. Once I got it explained, he'd rolled his eyes, told me I was doing it wrong, and damn near pulled the hair of out my head doing it for me. When I'd complained, he'd yanked harder and told me it had to be tight to look right. Fucker had a way of making you wish you hadn't let him help. But he braided better than I did. 

"Go wash." He went back to his book, and his tone was that patient condescending one damn sure knew better than to use at me. I knew that tone.

I'd been an older brother too, a long time ago, but I remembered talking like that to Hilary.

And I wasn't my high and mighty lord Amery's little brother.

Thank bastion.

I grabbed the book and flicked it over the back of the couch, then caught Amery's hand when I saw him start to swing at me. He had strong hands and hit like a dragon's tail, Amery did. I grinned at him, leaning into his face, skin tingling. He was angry. Good. "No. Amery. Do it."

"Let go of my glove," he returned, and that genteel front was gone fast as a whore raising her skirts for a tournois. 

I looked at his glove. White kidskin, he always wore the damn things, stupid 'cause they were hard to clean. My flight gloves were black with soot, greasy wet soot 'cause the burning bodies made it greasy with the fat. I licked my lips and could still taste it, salt and bitter and rich. And I reached out and smeared my other hand down the front of his shirt.

"Bastion fucker!"

Amery tackled me on the floor, punched me in the jaw. Knocked me dizzy, made me see double - he hit hard and he fought really good for a spoiled little lordling. I'd seen his kind before, met 'em all the time down in Molly; nobles and the like, all wanting to walk on the wild side, get a little dirty. They thought they were tough - but Amery was tough, fought like a wildcat. He slammed a knee into my gut and grabbed a big handful of my hair and hauled on it. I was laughing, couldn't stop, wheezing around the blow to my gut, and he was swearing like a sailor, fighting pissed. I caught him one in the jaw and sank an elbow into his ribs. We rolled on the floor, grabbing and punching and kicking. I knew how to fight with Amery, alright. You kept him pinned close or you knocked him down from a distance, because if you let him get that wind-up behind his punches he'd knock you cold with the first one.

He'd knocked me down, the first time, and I'd had to sit there a minute flat on my ass before I'd gotten up and broken his nose for it. He'd been so surprised I'd gotten back up that I'd smashed his nose good and blacked both his eyes. Like I said, fucker hit like a dragon's tail, quick and metal-hard. 

Amery pinned me, thought he had me good with his hands locked hard over the back of my neck and his knee in my back. So I turned my head and bit him on the ear. Amery howled a curse and headbutted me. Shit! He'd split my lip, too - I could taste the blood, couldn't feel the pain. 

"Girls. Stop flirting," Adamo drawled, as he walked by. "Take it behind closed doors."

"Fuck you too!" I shouted, 'cause I didn't give a damn what Adamo said. He had everyone else knuckled under; they said he was mean as fuck, but so far I hadn't seen it. Tough but fair, didn't stand for stupid lordling shit. 

Amery was panting between his teeth and pulled me down by my hair again, knocking my head on the floor. I saw stars and when I could see straight again, Amery was leaning over me and glaring. I grinned at him. 

"You are fucking crazier than a margrave," he told me, and his lips were curled but he was back to the quiet tones. 

"And you talk like a Mollyrat bastard," I shot right back.

"Wonder who I have to blame for that? Such poor influence." Amery sat back.

"Adamo?" Mostly me, because even if stuck-up bitch Amery could make everyone else step light, I could make him think twice. He'd fought for fun: I'd fought all my life for my life in Molly's gutters. I'd taught him a thing or two, but I could still best him and he knew it.

"Go wash and I'll do your stupid braids. You owe me another pair of gloves. This makes three pairs, Rook." Amery dusted absently at his shoulder. It smeared.

Heh. I was still light-headed but that was from getting my skull bounced off the fuckin' floor. I wasn't shaking anymore. Later I'd be cold and tired and sleep like a dead man, but I could sit up for a while and tell Amery about the raid and the battle-lines as he braided my hair, sitting in his window too-high above the street with the wind and sunshine in our faces like we were on dragon-back. 

He'd pull too hard and make my eyes water and my scalp ache for hours after, but that was okay.

Tomorrow, when he'd come back black with ash and with eyes too bright for living, I'd teach him to throw knives again. Bastard sucked balls at it, but he'd keep trying.

**Author's Note:**

>  _'Cause I'm only a crack_  
>  _In this castle of glass_  
>  _Hardly anything left for you to see_  
>  _For you to see_  
>  \--"Castle of Glass," by Linkin Park


End file.
